


One Man's Trash

by Black_piano_keys



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:42:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3131600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_piano_keys/pseuds/Black_piano_keys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diamonds ain't got nothing on this particular plastic rhinestone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Man's Trash

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigerlady (shetiger)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetiger/gifts).



> Saw you had a stocking and couldn't resist. :) Happy new year!

“Look what I got you, _baby_.” J.R. exaggerated the last word and laughed, then leaned back to look at Tyler. He currently had him pinned against his hotel-room door. J.R. held up a sparkly white bauble, a flat, plastic rhinestone a bit smaller than a dime. “Nothing but the best for you, right?”

Tyler laughed and plucked it out of J.R.’s fingers. “My very own piece of plastic!”

They’d both enjoyed themselves at the hotel bar, and the costumes many of the con-goers wore were part of that. It was only Friday night, so the hardcore cosplayers would be out in force tomorrow, making the day even more interesting.

“But it’s not even on a ring or a chain. Kind of a cheapskate, aren’t ya?”

“Found it in the hallway. I figure if a penny's lucky, this ought to be worth something. _Getting_ lucky, maybe?” J.R. pulled Tyler’s henley up and off, then snatched back the gem and carefully pressed it into Tyler’s belly-button. “See. Perfect fit.” And it was, as if that had been the plan for it the whole time.

“Wow. So this is like the cigar-band or Cracker Jack prize ring of body jewelry. Definitely the thought that counts.” Tyler circled his hips a few times, like a belly-dancer, to see it glimmer with the movement.

“Yeah, baby, dance for me.”

Both of them laughed as Tyler jiggled around, trying to move his stomach muscles in every possible contortion, popping the gem out when he tried a particularly athletic undulation. J.R. picked it up and went to toss it toward the trash can, but Tyler grabbed it.

“No, I like it.” He grinned, but he wasn’t joking as much as they had been. He carefully popped it back into his belly-button. “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

“It is eye-catching, isn’t it. Makes me want to spend some time down there. Maybe I can make it change colors, or sparkle brighter, hmm?” He slid his hand down Tyler’s pants and cupped him firmly. “Make it blink.”

Tyler laughed, nodding. “Oh yeah, _please_ try to. Give it your all.”

J.R. stripped Tyler as he turned him and backed him toward the bed, then pushed him onto his back and peeled off his own clothes. He mouthed Tyler’s stomach all around his navel, circling the gem and stroking his thumb over it as reverently as if it were priceless.

“Pretty,” he breathed, then kissed a line down to Tyler’s cock. “You should definitely keep it, pretty yourself up for me when you want this.”

Tyler threw his head back and laughed, then gasped as J.R. took him into his mouth and sucked hard.

“Like a beacon?” Tyler said, his voice tight because J.R. sucked slowly but steadily from root to tip. “A bat signal but for blowjobs.”

J.R. chuckled around him. “The blow signal.”

Neither of them talked much after that, Tyler too busy gasping and arching, pushing himself up in offering to J.R., and J.R. sucking him faster and harder, his fingers stroking the taut muscles of Tyler’s stomach. His thumb brushed again and again over the tiny plastic disc in the center.

J.R. hurried to his own room the next morning to prepare for the day, and they’d been on the go since they made their first appearance. They’d all stayed up too late Saturday night, drinking in a group with Ian, Orny and Linden, so they’d all gone on to their own rooms to try to get a little sleep before the early call on Sunday for the last events. J.R. met Tyler for breakfast, then headed for their last panel of the con with Ian, which was always fun.

When it was over and they stood together to say goodbye to the fans, J.R. reached over and tickled Ian, then pinched Tyler’s side and patted his stomach.

His thumb felt the hard disc in Tyler’s belly-button, and he gasped, feeling his face heat up. Tyler grinned, that round-apple-cheeked grin of his with squinted eyes and pinked cheeks. They leaned together in a private moment, a laugh and a brush of J.R.’s head against Tyler’s. Such good friends, the fans must have thought, and they wouldn’t be wrong.

“I’m not checked out yet. My hotel room. _Now_.” J.R. patted his stomach again, just to feel the plastic piece snug in Tyler’s navel.

“What if I had other plans?” Tyler said in a way that made it clear his plans were to do exactly this.

“Sorry, you sent up the blow signal and created an emergency.” He pinched Tyler’s butt in a way that any onlookers would see as friendly teasing, but really wasn’t. “We need to deal with it immediately.”

He gave silent thanks to whichever cosplayer hadn’t used enough glue.


End file.
